If the cops are comin, get to hop n runnin Quick and drop that onion, ain't no stoppin youngin Put away that herb raw, let us know the word whore Clap........that's the bird-call

[JR Writer] I still be where the weed flip, and the peas with the trees lit So much water in the order, it's just leaving them sea sick But it's me in my V6, trying to skeet on her bead lips They don't know, like im trying to keep her a secret Act wrong, chrome, passin me dome Next minute, shit im finished, she'll be flaggin it home But i always keep a straggler, that's known to bone And run through a lap, faster than marion jones Man listen, i still got them grams flippin tan pitchen, Corner to the damn kitchen Gained a couple fans having made the transition But im still in the hood like a transmission No cat can match me, i'm passin fastly who half as nasty I got it locked from here, all the way to cak-a-lacky But keep a mac for scrapping, thinkin it's just laffy taffy Shit this beat dun be the only thing clappin at me

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[Lil' Wayne] SpokenYeah, I'm ready now) Birdman Jr. and J.R pigeons know who they are Niggas gotta pay off Snitches know to see yall If chickens on the radar, I'm at it 'cause I get it on my day off, aint nuttin like getting weighed off Scrape off the plates Shake off the flakes Dad daddy make all the kit kat I gotta lay off the way ya'll hate me like I'm adolf, But ya'll can't see me, Ray Charles I steal whores I'll probably take yours Because you peel off and I take off Give me no space whatever I want I takes, Whatever I need I bleed and see Bitch nigga don't breathe on the weed I'm fucking with them birds Without feeding them seeds that's creed you don't know about it, Full clip how I go about it, full body, Hard body, I'm like ya'll got it yet

(CHORUS)

[Cam'Ron] SpokenKilla, dash, hoffa, you funny nigga.) Damn, Homie In high school you was the man homie That's what a fan told me shiiiit Same old cat, get his Kangol clapped Brains blown back, this is dame, but dame don't rap Shame on black, the game's so whack Dame sunk some children From in front of yo buildin straight to a hudred million Bad pimpin pimpin, bad actin doggyy Getcha limp on pimpin, if they actin froggy Tell em back up off me, i come down clappin forty Pow that's a badder story, not in my category Mess around, dame held def jam down Supporting my back, jackin and they left their pounds Red-neck found, tech tech pound Duck duck goose, pump pump shoot, Shoot lets get down It may seem petty, But we all turn mean deadly For green-fetti, My whole team ready

(CHORUS)

[JR Writer] This ain't only bars and tracks, this is for the hardest cats Flippin all the harder back, make them catch a heart attack When you see the narcs attack lemme know, start to clap, clap ,clap But start with he deals, your pa be on chill The car is DeVille, is real I'll Heart in the grill it's far in my mills Cruise the city with the semi or the celly On skinnies like i'm starving my wheels